Catch Me?
by JollyMyRoger
Summary: Emma Swan is depressed and still recovering from attempting suicide. Required to go to group therapy, she winds up meeting an Irishman there and they both find a spark. Running on instinct, they both try and use that spark to find the light at the end of the tunnel. Trigger Warnings: Depression, Attempted Suicide, Death
1. A Faulty First Step

"So, how many you in for?" the man's Irish brogue tickled against Emma's hair as he leaned in conspiratorially while they both got cups of exceptionally awful coffee.

"Oh, just the one," she whispered back, "But you know, they save you from the pills and they've got you as long as they want."

The scruffy, and exceptionally handsome, man tossed her a wink before they both turned and headed back to the circle of chairs. He let her have the one closest and had to go onto the far side, managing to snag the spot directly across from her. She gave a little wave and a surprised expression when he sat down, miming "long time no see" with her mouth and earning her a fake expression of surprise and a shrug from him. At least someone at this giant pity party was worth talking to, even if they both knew they were just faking being upbeat since it felt better than the numbness they actually felt.

The leader of the group finally stood up and started talking, "Hello. My name is Doctor Archibald Hopper, you can call me Archie or Dr. Hopper as you prefer." The bespectacled and balding redhead wasn't much to look at but, Emma had to admit, his voice was reassuring as hell, "We're here tonight because you all have tried to take your lives at least once. Most of you have done this recently and your lives were saved by chance, by a friend, by family, or even by yourselves."

Emma battled down images of Mary-Margaret leaning over her and screaming her name as she lay on the floor, her fiance, David, coming in with the phone and shoving it in her hands as Emma felt him pull her up and using the heimlich to try and get the pills out of her. Looking across the circle she saw her Irish friend swallowing hard, so she pushed a smile on her face, a tiny almost-smile finally managed to take shape. Lucky enough for her, Irish managed to catch it, and return it with a tiny almost-smile of his own. Emma trapped the memory of that almost-smile, it was worth a lot more than Dr. Hopper's reassuring speech they were both missing.

An hour later and Emma was trudging up the stairs to the door of the apartment she shared with her best friend, Mary-Margaret Blanchard. She unlocked the door and slowly went inside, hoping she wouldn't inflict her presence on M&M while David was there. The two of them had enough problems, what with the whole evil stepmother schtick going on for M&M and the greedy, controlling, asshole adoptive dad on David's side, without dealing with Emma ruining the happy moments they had together with her bullshit. As luck would have it, the two lovebirds were asleep on the couch. David with his arms around M&M of course, Emma wouldn't expect anything less than that from him. She grabbed the folded blanket from under the coffee table and spread it over them as softly as she could, but M&M was psychic or something and lightly grabbed her wrist as she was retracting her hands.

"How was it, Ems?" she whispered, a sweet and caring smile slipping on her face as easy as sun in summer.

Emma paused and tried to give her a real description, once something came to mind she whispered back, "Reassuring. And I met a guy there who was nice to me, Ems." The memory of Irish giving her that little almost-smile was still in her mind, a tiny flicker of something or other.

M&M smiled wide and let her go, settling back against David. She knew Emma didn't want to talk and always let her off before it became too much, Emma still had no idea how someone could be so wonderful and kind to her. Sighing slightly, Emma headed to bed. She pulled her coat and her shoes off before crawling under the covers, who cared if she slept in her clothes, she'd made plenty of progress today already. She'd smiled for the first time in four years. To a guy, even.

M&M dragged Emma out of bed an hour before the latter had to get to work and on the way out of the door for the former. It was their daily routine, Emma still had problems waking up, but usually M&M had to actually drag her out of bed and into a mostly standing position. Today she just had to pull off the covers and give Emma a shake and seeing her wake up so quickly had definitely brightened M&M's day and seeing her best friend happy put a bit more vigor in Emma's actions as she showered, dressed, ate, and made her way down to the bus stop to get to the library.

Emma was the assistant assigned to work directly with Ms. Belle French, a lovely, brunette librarian who was just a year older than her and completely understanding about Emma's depression. Belle read constantly and when Emma had applied for the assistant position, her resume including her recent stint in the hospital and diagnosis of depression, had happily requested that Emma work with her. And so Emma's days revolved around simply reshelving books with Belle, helping her keep the library tidy, or sitting behind a desk and eyeing whoever came in and checking out books. Not to mention the perk of taking the three foot pole they had and poking apart couples who were trying to make out, or worse, deep within the stacks.

Oddly enough, the routine of that Thursday, and Friday's, passed fairly comfortably for Emma instead of the usual uncomfortable and . And she was looking forward to the next group session on Friday, maybe just because of Irish, but she was looking forward to it and that was a nice change. After work on Friday she grabbed a quick dinner at home with M&M and David before heading out to the session.

Meandering up the stairs she pushed open the door to the meeting room and looked around, the chairs were already set up but only a few were filled. She had apparently gotten there really early. Swallowing the trickle of trepidation she went over and got herself a cup of that awful coffee. She quietly sipped at it, trying to ignore the abhorrent taste while she wondered how it was nastier this time around, and waited for the room to fill up, staring at some poster talking about the steps to recovery for addictions, when Dr. Hopper spoke up behind her and scared the shit out of her.

"You seem eager to be here, Miss Swan," he remarked.

Emma jumped, nearly spilling her coffee all over herself an spluttered on the sip she had in her mouth. Dr. Hopper quickly offered a napkin along with a at least half a dozen startled apologies, all of which Emma brushed off. "No, no, I'm okay. I just didn't hear you, Dr. Hopper," she cleared her throat before replying to his earlier remark, "I don't know why you think I'm eager, I'm just early. And avoiding everyone."

He chuckled sheepishly, "So you're gonna tell me you're here almost half an hour early, when I know you're late for everything and that includes last meeting, and you're not eager? And as for avoiding everyone, that's a little difficult to claim when you're waiting for someone."

Emma simply stared at the shrink. The other before him had always bought her lies, her admissions of failures in places to cover up the truth, all those things. And he'd been her doctor for months, he was supposed to know her, but Dr. Hopper had figured out two real things about her in ten seconds.

"I noticed your conversation with Mr. Jones last time, and how you two paid more attention to one another than you did you did me or anyone else who spoke," Dr. Hopper continued.

"I'm-I'm sorry," she mumbled in reply.

"No, no. Don't apologize, I'm glad," he immediately reassured her, "The fact that you and he formed a connection is fantastic, not something I would ever chastise. You both have trouble forming new relationships, especially after all that happened for both of you. Yet you both spoke to each other right away, that's fantastic."

"It's...we just were...we were being sarcastic, that's all," Emma muttered, shifting uncomfortably at the man's words.

"And...?"

"And we...we smiled at each other," she admitted, hunching her shoulders and trying to hide.

"Uh-huh," Dr. Hopper remarked more than a little smugly. He turned and poured himself a cup of coffee, stating rather nonchalantly, "Mr. Jones has shown up to all three meetings he's been to at exactly 7. And he's never spoken to anyone, only looks at people when they aren't looking at him, and has never once smiled." He walked away, sipping his coffee, smiling slightly as he saw Emma turn to look at the clock in his peripheral vision. It was 6:50.

Five minutes later, Emma was pretty sure she had memorized all the steps of recovery, the warning signs of alcohol abuse, and had ignored the poster about suicidal behavior it might as well have been a jilted ex-lover. She heard the door creak open and like a middle-schooler with a crush, and like she had done every other time, she looked over towards it. This time, however, she was rewarded for her persistence with Irish walking in. Well, slouching in would be more accurate, just like dragging would be an accurate descriptor for how Emma went anywhere. Emma felt a tiny thrill of excitement race through her, he was here and not only that, he was early. His gaze searched over at the circle of chairs where everyone else was and his brow frowned, he turned over towards where the coffee pot was and saw her. Emma felt herself make an almost-smile as their eyes met, Irish's brow smoothed out and he quirked an almost-smile as well as he walked over, getting himself a cup of coffee and refilling hers before speaking.

"Hullo, blondie."

"Hello, Irish."

"You're here early," he stated as he made a face over the coffee.

"So are you. I probably should've warned you about the coffee today, someone made it with a boot as a filter." she quipped, then for some reason took a sip of the stuff herself and made a face of her own.

Irish smirked and then plucked her cup out of her hand and unceremoniously both of theirs in the trash. "I would rather drink a boot."

"Well a boot would probably go down easier," she shrugged, "But I would hate to see you walk home barefoot."

"Well if I weren't such a gentleman, I would have suggested we try drinking your Chucks. They seem much nicer."

Emma was about to reply that her ratty old Chucks would taste about as good as the coffee when she glanced down and noticed. She was wearing a brand new pair of red ones, not her ratty old gray pair. M&M had bought these weeks ago, trying quite unsuccessfully to get Emma to wear them, and nicer clothes in general. But now she was wearing them, and a pair of nice jeans, her favorite gray blouse, and a red leather jacket. She hadn't noticed that she had switched out of her normal old jeans and dark hoodie routine, she actually looked nice. She looked up and saw that so did Irish, he was wearing dark blue jeans that looked as new as hers, his black boots were shiny, and instead of the tattered gray sweater from last week, he had on a nice looking red hoodie and black canvas jacket. They had both dressed up a bit, and she guessed that neither of them had noticed doing so.

Just then, Irish looked over her shoulder at the clock, and took her hand. "Come on, it's about to start, we can still get a seat next to each other." he said a little hopefully.

Emma squeezed his hand a little, feeling a nervous buzz in her stomach over it, and nodded in reply. They walked over to the chairs, hand in hand until Irish pulled one out for her and pushed it back as she sat down. He really was a gentleman. After he sat down, Emma turned towards him and whispered quietly, "Emma Swan."

He locked eyes with her and replied, "Killian Jones."

They both smiled again, little smiles yeah, but they weren't almost-smiles.


	2. The Second Step is Firmer, Until We Fall

It'd been a month since her second meeting. Now she was at fourteen. Work had been going more pleasantly, she had involved herself in conversations with Belle, they were on a first name basis now, and they might be on the way to becoming friends. Spending time with M&M and David had turned from something painful, carrying a twinge of humiliation, into something normal and comfortable that Emma looked forward to. David had even asked Emma to steal one of M&M's rings so he could get an engagement ring for them, she'd had to swallow a bubble of giddiness the entire day until she finally slipped the ring into David's pocket. He'd even been so worried about finding the perfect ring that Emma had gone along with him during each of their lunch breaks; David drove over from the sheriff's station to pick her up and they slipped over to the jewelry store. Emma wound up spotting a beautiful, simple silver ring that widened in the middle to hold a few little emeralds side by side with a diamond right in the center of them, it was absolutely perfect for M&M. David dropped her back at work and drive away all riding on a huge smile, now Emma would just have to wait the month it took him to plan out the perfect way to ask her.

Emma's relationship with Killian had also progressed nicely, it turns out he worked at the local grocer so Emma had taken over doing that shopping during his shifts. Always leaving with M&M giving her a conspiratorial little smile and returning to the same look. At the store Killian almost always was stocking something, so Emma always lingered in whatever section he was in. They didn't talk very much, but they didn't need to, both of them seemed to always be in sync with one another and their silence was always comfortable. Killian always told her jokes and she usually had a sly reply up her sleeve. The two of them, just like M&M and David, just worked and fit right together. Killian finally asked her out on a date right before meeting number fourteen, they were going out the next night.

"Oh that's perfect, Emma. You look amazing," Mary-Margaret trilled with a biggest grin.

"You think so?" Emma inquired, looking down over her outfit. Brown jacket on a red shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of brown leather boots with a one inch heel.

M&M nodded sharply, "Trust me. You look fantastic, Killian won't know what hit him other than it was you and he needs to pull his jaw back off the floor."M&M smiled, making up for Emma's nervousness with her cheeriness and beaming smiles. "Why are you so nervous, Emma? You know he likes you already."

"It's just...well..." Emma fidgeted and finally sat down on the bed next to M&M before admitting, "This is my first date. Ever."

M&M goggled at her, they had never discussed men. It was the second biggest off-limits subject for Emma. "But, um, y'know...him," she tried hesitantly.

"I didn't really date him," Emma replied, surprising herself with this conversation, "I stole his stolen car and we kinda fell into a 'relationship' from there. The only other two before him weren't relationships either, one was just high school groping and the other was just a dumb girl and a dumb boy in the backseat of his daddy's car after a prom neither of us went to. But he was..." Emma trailed off, her mind starting to venture down somewhere that still scared her.

M&M took Emma's hands in her own and held them tightly, a clever look on her face. "And now look at you, all grown up and going on a date with a man whose face should totally be plastered all over tv and magazines for the benefit of all womankind," she remarked slyly, easily diverting Emma's thoughts right to Killian.

"Oh and you don't have a handsome prince to yourself, leave my scoundrel alone," Emma chided, both of them breaking out in laughter after. Their friendship may have started from an odd, dark place, but it wound up being one of the three things Emma knew she could count on. The other two were David's devotion to M&M and the fact they both would pull her out of the gutter she had thrown herself in and not judge her. How she had managed to find two people like that, Emma would never know, but she was never going to let go of them.

"You're getting that deep thoughts look on your face, Ems," M&M noted.

"Well they were nice deep thoughts, about you and David, Ems."

"Well thank you, I have nice deep thoughts for you too. But you need to go," M&M tilted her head towards the clock, it was later than Emma had thought.

Emma quickly freed her hands from M&M and gave her a quick hug before getting to her feet and heading out the door, stopping herself short she leaned back into the apartment and met M&M's eyes. "Don't wait up, M&Ms. Love you." She was reward with a huge smile and a wave before she hurried off again, slamming the door behind her and not knowing about the tears that spilled down her best friend's face. Happy tears weren't something Mary-Margaret Blanchard had had occasion to spill for Emma, so tonight was filled with firsts.

Emma managed to get to the grocer right on time, Killian was just stepping out with a cooler in one hand and struggling into his coat with the he saw her he smiled and finally shoved his arm in the sleeve. "Hope I get a better hang on how clothes work before we ever do anything exciting, ey, love?" Killian winked at her.

Snorting, Emma took his suddenly proffered arm and they headed down the street. They headed down towards the park, enjoying the weird deadness of Thursday evenings in Storybrooke. There may have been more than a few disadvantages of living in a small town, but if you wanted peace and quiet then you didn't need to look any further. Reaching the park they found the bench that had sort have become theirs over the past few weeks. It was right under an enormous cedar tree, right next to the trunk so you could lean up against it.

Settling themselves down on the bench, Killian cracked open the cooler and pulled out a pair of sandwiches, a thermos, and a little passed the next few minutes quietly, leaning up against the tree, enjoying the food and the clear sky. Emma finished her sandwich and cracked open the thermos. She could smell cinnamon, hot chocolate, and something a hell of a lot stronger than either.

"Irish, did you, well, irish the hot chocolate?" Emma inquired, more than a little incredulous.

"Yeah, except irishing it would have been with whiskey," he replied with a little smirk, "I pirated it."

"So you stole it and put rum in it?"

"Right on the money."

"...Seriously? You stole the hot chocolate."

"Yeah, well maybe Leroy will stop leaving it in the micro for half an hour and eating my lunch."

Emma started laughing then, Killian joined her after a minute. His little quarrel with his co-worker was ridiculous, some regular there paid more attention to Killian and Leroy had a crush on her. Nevermind the fact that Killian paid her exactly as much attention as he had to for his job and  
pointedly never left whatever area Emma was in. After they stopped laughing they both lapsed back into silence, quietly trading the thermos back and forth. Unlike their time in the grocer or other places, this wasn't the same comfortable silence. Emma was too nervous to start talking, her mind drifting backwards into awful places and she couldn't push the thoughts out of her head.

"Y'know...on a date I think we're supposed to talk, Emma," Killian ventured, his brow creased with worry.

Emma bit her lip before responding back, "I wouldn't know. Never been on one."

"You're twenty-one and you've never been on a date?"

Emma just shook her head in reply, not sure why she had opened that door to him and not wanting him to go through it. "H-how about you?" Emma awkwardly broke the silence that was forming again.

"Me what?" Killian snapped out of the thoughts he was drifting into.

"Got any advice about dates?"

"Not really...this is kinda my first too," he answered her quietly.

"What, handsome as you are and twenty-four and never been on a date?" Emma tried jokingly. When he didn't laugh she mumbled, "Well at least we're failing on the same playing field...and together."

"I'm sorry, Emma..."

"No, no. It's okay. But hey, practice makes perfect, right?" Emma ventured.

Killian gave her a small, tight smile, and nodded. "Just an off day, huh?"

Emma nodded back and stood, Killian's eyes following her a bit mournfully. "We'll try again soon, Killian. Save the dessert until we manage a conversation?"

He nodded back to her and grabbed her hand, squeezing it and letting it go, it was how they usually said goodbye. Emma headed back to the apartment, a bit sad at how it had gone, but still happy that it had gone at all. As she brushed her teeth she had to admit she was impressed, they had both put themselves out there and even though it had kinda sucked, they were going to do it again. It was progress.

Four hours of laying on her bed later, she was frustrated and anxious. Finally giving in, she got up and got dressed in a sweater, sneakers, and jeans. Of course she couldn't sleep tonight. Emma left the apartment and started walking. She'd started to do this a lot since she had gotten out of the hospital. It was the only way she could really get rid of her occasional insomnia. She had a route now, she'd wend her way down to Troll Bridge overlooking the river and stay there for a few minutes, looking out over the water, before heading back. Emma was walking quickly that night, needing to burn off her anxiety and frustration so she could get some sleep. Emma was actually starting to really care whether or not she was late to work in the mornings.

By the time she drew near to the bridge, Emma was finally feeling calm. Storybrooke was dead quiet at night and the silence was always welcoming to her. When she finally stepped onto Troll Bridge she looked up for the first time in at least thirty minutes and she caught sight of someone standing in the middle of the bridge, next to the railing on the far side, right over the highest part of the bridge. Her calm starting to crack a little, Emma continued walking, figuring it was just someone else on a nighttime stroll. This theory proved decidedly wrong when the man, Emma had enough light to tell he was definitely a man, moved to haul himself up on the railing. Her calm shattering into panic, Emma found herself breaking out into a run, rolling her feet as to make as little noise as possible. Heart thundering in her ears, some small part of her wondering what the hell she was doing, another part was definitely curious as to how the hell she found the courage to be doing it. She managed to reach the man just as he was stepping off the railing, her arms catching under his and her hands clasping together over his heart. Moving faster and stronger than Emma knew she could, she braced one leg against the railing and heaved back, managed to counter the sudden pull he was giving her with the lightning snap of adrenaline that was rocketing through her system. Losing track of what happened next, Emma came to her senses with the vague memory of having pivoted him and flipped him over the railing and onto the bridge, both of them hitting the ground after that. They both started to pick themselves off the ground and she finally got to see the face of the man she had saved.

The shock and betrayal hit her like a physical blow, then the daze cleared and there was only the hurt. "HOW COULD YOU!?" she heard herself scream, she could feel her own horrified expression as she looked at Killian's own guilt stricken one.

"Emma-" he managed to choke out, struggling to his feet.

"How could you?" she wailed pitifully, the tears starting to stream down her face as she was almost doubled over clutching her middle. "You were supposed to be okay. You were the one doing better. You were why I was doing better, I was watching you do better," she started to choke the words out between sobs. A crushing sense of failure was pressing down as she continued to stare at Killian, tears streaming down his face as well. She straightened up some and took a step towards him, trying to get close enough to make him understand as she cried out again, "You were okay, you made me smile, you took my hand. You asked me out. You were okay." Her words became a plea as she stumbled forward.

Killian caught her and she pressed her face deep into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, not even feeling how tight he was holding her or him pressing his face into her hair. "I...you...you were the one who was okay, Emma," he begged, "I can't...I don't know how to be okay anymore. I didn't want to jump, but I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't even manage a date with you, I'm such a fucking failure." Emma could feel him finally start to sob as she clutched to the front of his shirt like the lifeline he was to her. "I fucking got them all killed. It was all me I did it," he sobbed out, his knees giving way and they both sank to the ground, "I let him fucking take over and we went into a squall, they all died because of me. I fucking killed them, Emma." They both clutched each other tighter and the only thing Emma could think to do was whisper a quiet refrain of "No" between her sobs and he kept moaning "I killed them" between his.


	3. And Picking Yourself Up Is The Victory

Emma opened her eyes reluctantly. She heard Mary-Margaret ease her door open and tilted her head so she could meet the woman's eyes. When M&M finally poked her head in and saw Emma laying on the bed with Killian, both fully clothed, her eyes widened in shock and she locked eyes with Emma. Emma held her gaze without moving, not entirely sure how she was going to explain what had happened, but surprisingly, M&M just gave her a little smile and shrugged before quietly closing the door again. As Emma drifted back into a doze, she wondered if she should be worried or reassured about M&M's reaction to Killian being in her bed.

She awoke with a start, fear clawing at her insides as a nightmare she couldn't remember stole through her. Not daring to move, Emma just lay there and tried to master her panic. Suddenly she felt a firm, warm pressure on her hand. Emma turn her head and saw Killian laying there, his face a study of concern.

"Nightmare?" he ventured.

Emma nodded her head, inhaling a shuddering breath, and suddenly speaking without meaning to when she let it back out, "I was lying here on my bed, I couldn't make myself get up. I was wearing a black dress and I was late."

"I-I don't understand," he murmured, confusion creeping into his expression, "That was your nightmare?"

"I was late for your funeral, Killian," she finally finished, the words unsticking from her throat. Without a word, Killian simply gathered her into his arms and hugged her close. Just like the previous night, her hands tightened around his shirt, this time it was a more plaintive grasp than a desperate one. A silent question formed from her hands on his chest, but Killian heard it as if she were screaming it.

"I used to captain a ship for a very rich man," Killian started to answer, his voice thick and with a little quaver underneath, "I had practically lived on ships my enitre, my dad loved the sea and taught me how to sail about the same time I finished learning how to stand up. The man I worked for, Mr. Gold, had a wife and a song. Just a little thing, he was, not even three when I got hired. Mrs. Gold was the one who really loved sailing, she also loved any chance to get away from her husband. He was obsessed with money and power, they made him feel like he wasn't a coward.

"One thing eventually led to another and we had an affair. Gold never found out about it, not even as it was going on a year. I had been working for him for three years when we went out on the last trip. I had been teaching Gold how to sail and let him take over that day, he managed to steer us right into a White Squall. That's a storm that just comes up out of nowhere, or close enough, and it hit us hard. Gold hadn't a clue how to sail in it, the ship wasn't a big sturdy one, just a small thing made to be fast and free," Killian swallowed hard, Emma couldn't move. She was transfixed in some sort of horrified stupor, she knew some of what was coming because of what he had said last night, but she wasn't prepared.  
After a moment, Killian started again, "We got tossed on a wave and I hit my head on something. I couldn't get to the wheel in time, Gold had no idea what to do, and the ship...the ship flipped, we capsized. I don't remember much of what happened next. Just ice cold water, confusion, and the ship pulling me down with her. Somehow Gold and I found each other down there, somehow we go away from the pull and break the surface. His leg was ruined, but one of the life preservers had come loose, so I got him on that. We both just clung to it for however long. The coast guard eventually found us, someone had apparently seen us go into the storm and called in," Killian's voice trailed off. Emma could practically feel the guilt welling up in his chest under her hands, she could feel the slight trembling of his chin against her hair. So she pushed herself up a bit higher, pressing his mouth closed with the top of her head.

"You didn't kill them, Killian," she whispered, "It was an accident, they happen and they rip lives apart but nobody gets the blame."

His reply slipped through nearly closed lips, "Gold blames me, I blame me."

"Gold blames you so he doesn't have to blame himself. You blame you because you lost someone you loved."

Killian just tightened his embrace of her in response, pressing his face into her hair. Emma could feel some of the tension in his body leave, he still blamed himself and he probably always would, but she didn't and that made it better. Or maybe Emma was projecting her own hope, but when she slid her arms up his chest and wrapped them around his neck, she could feel him melt into her. So maybe she was right after all.

That was two days ago. Now she watched dully as Killian ran through the sliding glass doors, looking around frantically, before he spotted her. He ran over and cupped her face in his hands, saying something that she couldn't hear through the buzzing in her head. She finally blinked and the buzzing went away in a snap, her thoughts were still sluggish but she could finally hear him when he repeated himself, she guessed he was repeating himself, again.

"Emma what happened? Are you hurt?" Killian's voice was tight with worry and his eyes were darting all over her face, always coming back to meet her eyes before they set off to search for some other reason for her distress.

They were in the kitchen, David was telling her a story about an arrest he made yesterday. It was the most ridiculous thing Emma had ever heard and she couldn't stop laughing, her laughter was making David laugh and prolonging his story.

"D-David," Emma murmured, "He's hurt. Oh god he's hurt so badly."

David was making tacos, all from scratch. Neither of them noticed that when he laughed one time some of the oil spilled out of the bottle and hit the floor.

"Did you call Mary-Margaret?" Killian's voice snapped her back into the present again and just blinked widely at him. He gently took David's phone from her hand, she was still grasping it from having made the 911 call, and made the call to Mary-Margaret, never breaking eye contact with her, one stand still on her cheek.

Suddenly David's foot went out from under him, a scream formed in Emma's throat as his head smashed into the corner of the stove. She flew from her seat and around the counter, her knees hitting the floor hard as she slid into him. Yelling his name, pressing her hand to his neck for a pulse, the other switching off the stove. Somehow in her panic she had the presence of mind to do things like that, to dig in his pockets for his cell phone, coming up with it and the box containing M&M's engagement ring. The box went into her pocket and she frantically dialed 911. Everything after that moment is a blur of crying out David's name, trying to wake him up, being pulled away by a paramedic, following them into the ambulance in a daze.  
They were now sitting in chairs outside David's ICU room. Killian had an arm around Emma's shoulders, his other hand was holding hers. His thumbs were tracing circles on her skin, his quiet reassurance a welcome relief as she stumbled back into reality. The hospital was chaos, her mind was chaos, Killian was an anchor of calm.

"How did you find me?" she broke the silence, her thoughts spilling into spoken word.

"I saw you sitting in the back of the ambulance, it passed by the grocer. It was going at a good clip, but I can't ever mistake you for anyone else, love," He stated as it was the most simple thing in the world and not the most meaningful.

Just before Emma was about to say anything else, she saw Mary-Margaret rush into the ICU. Panic painted her features as she spotted Emma and Killian and must have caught sight of David in the room beyond. M&M nearly ran straight towards the room, until a nurse stopped her. The woman was saying something about family only or something, Emma suddenly felt the box in her pocket like it was a lead weight. She pulled her hand out of Killian's and scrambled in her pocket for it, finally retrieving it, she snapped it open and pulled the ring out. Jumping to her feet and shoving the box into Killian's hands, she hurried over to M&M and the nurse.

"She is family! They got married yesterday," the lie slipped from Emma's lips easily, no one was going to keep Mary-Margaret away from David when he needed her. Emma held out M&M's ring to and continued, "David got it out of the pipe a few hours ago, I am so sorry I dropped it."

Somehow taking it in stride, M&M nodded sharply and took the ring, sliding it onto her ring finger, it was a perfect fit. The nurse quickly apologized and led M&M into David's room, explaining what had happened. Emma went back to her seat and dropped back in it heavily, leaning forward and rubbing her temples. She soon felt Killian rubbing her back, his touch almost seemed to steal away the headache that was forming. She leaned back in her chair and his arm slid back up to her shoulders.

He was starting to say something when she started her confession. "I met Neal when I was sixteen. I stole a car he had stolen and was sleeping in. He eventually charmed me into a drink, which we stole, and then we sort of just fell into the relationship. We lasted four months and I was so stupidly in love with him. We just moved around, stealing from places for food and clothes, working our way up to Maine. One day, he found a wanted poster for when he stole twenty grand of watches, just days before he promised we were gonna settle down and have a real life," Emma's voice was strong and distant, the memories slipping through her mind like a disgusting liquid. Fouling her mind but not staying. She could feel Killian's on her, and even though she stared ramrod straight ahead of her, she knew his expression didn't hold a hint of judgement.

After taking a breath she continued on, "He had stowed them in a locker in a bus depot, I had the bright idea that I could go in and take them out and we could fence them. It was enough money for us to have a real life, have everything we wanted. He was worried about me getting caught, I told him I wouldn't, he let me do it. It was so easy, nobody even looked twice at me, just a teenager getting a bag out of a locker. We split up so he could go see the fence, he had given me an exact spot to wait at and an exact time to be there. And one of the watches to keep. I was so fucking happy, Killian," she tried to explain, tears threatening to spill over. Then Killian did something she'd never expect, he leaned over and picked her up out of her chair and deposited her in his lap, holding her against his chest and stroking her hair. Her voice quavering, she returned to her story, "Instead of Neal, a cop came. He said I'd been sold out, he knew about the watch, the bus depot, everything. I got a year in prison and never saw Neal again."

Emma whispered the rest of her story, only knowing that Killian heard it by how he continued to tighten his arms around her. "I found out I was pregnant in there. Neal's kid, the man who ruined my life left me with a child. He was a pull-out asshole and I had been a stupid girl in love. I resented that kid at first, resented everything about the whole damn pregnancy. It wasn't until a few weeks before I gave birth that I stopped resenting him and started loving him." A dull pain had taken residence in her chest, tears slowly spilling from her eyes, Killian had her pressed so firmly against him she could feel his heart beating.

"He was stillborn," she choked out, the horrid memory of that day pressing against her mind and threatening to overwhelm her again. And then Killian's hand was there, brushing away her tears and stroking her cheek with such amazing tenderness. Emma turned her head and buried her head in his chest for a few minutes. Eventually though, she moved her head enough so he could hear her talk, and continued, "I met M&M then, she was part of a prison outreach thing and helped me out. She didn't mind that I wouldn't tell her anything past what Neal had done to me, she doesn't even know about Henry." She swallowed back the pain of saying his name aloud and finally confessed to Killian, "I eventually tried to kill myself because it was my fault. Henry died because I didn't love him."

Killian's reaction to this was immediate and shocking. He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up to look him in the eye. "No," he growled, "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident. It was the world being fucking horrible to someone who didn't deserve it. Someones." He stared at her a long time before pulling her back into a hug. She felt more than heard his quiet words in her ear, "It was an accident, they happen, they rip lives apart, but no one is to blame. You told me that two days ago, you kept me alive saying those words. Now I'm saying them to you."

Emma just wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time, eventually Emma whispered a question into Killian's ear. "Catch me?" she asked almost silently. Killian let his grip on her slack, moving her a bit away from him so he could look at her, a perplexed look on his face.

"I'm falling in love, Killian, and I don't want to hit the bottom alone. So, catch me?" she asked again.

A wide smile grew on his face, "Aye, I'll catch you. I already hit the bottom of that fall myself, love, and I have to say...it's really wonderful."

Emma leaned in and kissed him, then. It was long and deep and in the middle of an ICU ward and absolutely perfect. They eventually broke apart when M&M cleared her throat. Sheepishly turning towards her, she just smiled at them still sitting in the one chair, Emma in Killian's lap.

"David's awake, he wants to glare at you for proposing for him, Emma," she said wryly and then turned and headed back into David's room.

Emma and Killian turned back to each other and smiled. Everything had turned out alright after all. And it would stay that way, they just had to take it one day at a time.


End file.
